No Sxxt Sherlock
by LeiaPrincess21
Summary: It's a phrase we've all said.  However, this time it's John that says it.  A funny little drabble that was inspired by the gradeschool phrase. T for language.  No slash.


**A/N: I have a wonderful and dear friend who inspired me to write this when I jokingly said to her "No shit Sherlock" and she responded with "I bet John says that ALL the time". Ergo this wee fic in which I resist my shipper roots and just am silly. Set pretty much anytime after the "A Study in Pink". T for language. **

John was walking up the stairs to the flat already in a huff. He had gone out to do the shopping and come back over encumbered with bags of Sherlock's favorite tea and various things Sherlock needed for his experiments. In fact, only two of the items he'd bough were things he wanted. This plus the fact that after five minutes of scrambling with the keys and trying to get the door open while shouting for Sherlock to come help, he'd had to put the bags down, open the door, then pick them back up only to be greeted by the sound of Sherlock absent mindedly plucking at the strings of his violin. John climbed the stairs, setting his feet down with the force used when he used to march in the army. It made for quite a racket along with the sound of the rustling bags. However, when John entered the sitting room of the flat Sherlock was still staring out the window, strumming at his violin. For a moment John began to understand the concept of seeing red with anger.

"Did you fucking hear me?" Sherlock reacted to John's yelling as though he had been shaken from sleep.

"What? Why do you have bags?" Sherlock laid his violin back in it's case.

"I have fucking bags because I was at the fucking store buying your fucking supplies for more fucking experiments to destroy my fucking flat!" John began to put away said groceries, letting his frustration out by slamming them each into their proper place.

"You left? No, you were here. I was talking to you about the case, picked up my violin to help me think, and the suddenly you came crashing into the room." Sherlock looked legitimately confused. Though, not panicked as he tended to loose time when thinking about difficult puzzles and their current case was quite the puzzle to him. Not the actual murder. No, he'd figured out it was the wife in ten minutes. He was trying to puzzle out who the wife had been sleeping with before her husband found out and she killed him in what appeared to be self defense.

"Sherlock," John's voice broke with his defeat, "you picked up that violin two hours ago and after a bit I announced I was going out shopping. You didn't hear any of it did you?" John wanted to be mad but this was Sherlock. This wasn't unusual behavior. The man made him spitting mad, but he was his best friend and at the end of the day that's what mattered most. Sherlock did look sorry. He always did. As much as he didn't admit it, it did unnerve him that he lost time like that. John just shook his head. "I suppose you haven't had anything to eat or drink since this morning?" Sherlock shook his head. John went about making tea since he knew Sherlock rarely ate when working on cases, even though this one was technically solved.

"It's not my fault, you know." Sherlock said flippantly. John felt his temper flare again.

"What? How…How in HELL is it not your fault that you forget I'm not here?" Sherlock just stared blankly. "Not only that. How important do you think I feel when you tell me that? I'm your partner in detective work, yes, but really I just tend to stand there and say you're brilliant. We're flatmates but more over we're mates. We get cheap Chinese food and stay up watching shitty TV and sometimes, SOMETIMES, I feel like I'm a part of your life but then you do shit like this. How important do you think that makes me feel?"

"Not very" Sherlock still had no emotion in his voice.

"No shit Sherlock!" John's mouth was open with disbelief at how flippant Sherlock was being. Sherlock just stood there regarding him with one raised eyebrow, haughtily looking down his nose. John saw something new in Sherlock's face. For a moment John feared he'd actually offended Sherlock. However, the raised eyebrow suddenly twitched and its mate went up as well. Sherlock's shoulders were shaking softly with suppressed laughter. The sight made John suddenly be overcome with the comedy of the situation and began to giggle as well. Within moments they were both in tears with laughter. John was bent over with his hands on his knees and Sherlock had bent and laid his elbows on the back of the sitting room chair.

"'No shit Sherlock'? Good lord man, are we five now?" Sherlock was wiping tears from his eyes and chocking for air.

"The alliteration is nice isn't it?" John was finally becoming in control of his giggles. He still couldn't stand up all the way. His stomach was too sore from laughter.

"I am sorry though." Sherlock was still smiling through his words were sincere.

"I know. I was just in a huff."

"No it's not very nice of me. You are my mate. I'm not used to having one. I'm still waiting for you to tell me to 'piss off' sometimes. I'm sorry that I didn't realize you left." John flapped his hand and went back to making tea.

"Don't worry. It's part of who you are and if I'm going to say you're my friend then I can't get all pissy over you being yourself." Sherlock smiled then looked down his nose haughtily.

"Very true. Quite selfish of you really." John smiled and shoved the tea into Sherlock's hands.

"Drink the tea. Try and solve the puzzle before dinner. I'd rather fancy some Italian tonight and I don't feel like going alone." Sherlock half nodded but was already back in thought. John grabbed his own tea and laptop and made himself comfortable on the couch so that he could blog about the most recent crime.

The next day, after a nice Italian dinner, Sherlock and John were at the police station telling Lestrade the details of the case. After they finished and Sherlock had triumphantly announced the wife was cheating with the husband's brother he flapped his hand at John's inevitable compliments and told Lestrade, "Call if you have any more cases. But please, try and make them interesting." As he turned to leave Lestrade rolled his eyes and John said under his breath, "No shit Sherlock." Sherlock almost lost concentration and smiled but no one but John saw the momentary loss in focus. John however giggled like a child and left the room after Sherlock.


End file.
